Heart Strings

One day I will walk with you again.  While your grandchildren play.
I'm sad you had to leave us so soon.  I wanted to keep you here.  I'm thankful I got to have a second Dad, I'm grateful that it was you. 
Thank you for marrying my Mom and making her so happy.  Thank you for accepting us as your own and making us feel so loved.  Thank you for the Papa you were, for walks around the duck pond, motorbike rides and hours with budding carpenters in your shop.
Thank you for teaching me the names of so many flowers, even though I could never remember them.  Your appreciation for life was contagious. 
I will miss you.
I thought this picture was sweet when I first saw it.  But now it has heart strings attached.

Incase you were wondering

I haven't posted in a few days.  It's because everytime I see my blog come up I see that picture of my Dad.  It's great to see him.  I'll post soon don't worry:)

Day 30: Picture of someone you miss

I miss you.

Hey Dad!

  Posting a picture from the 80's on facebook yesterday has got me thinking about my Pa.
  I remember the day, it's forever etched in my mind.
  I had waved goodbye to Dad from the kitchen window about 5am Sunday morning.  I waved until I couldn't see his truck anymore, like I always did.  I went back to bed, later went to church.  
  Saturday night had been my first officially date with Josh.  He had taken me out to dinner at the Grand Trunk Restaurant. 
  Back to Sunday.  I think we went sledding that day.  I was up late hanging out with friends. 
  I slept in Monday morning and was awakened by a knocking on the door at 8am.  I was shocked to see a man in a suit and a police officier. 
  The coroner proceed to find out who I was and if my Dad was Charles Jeans.  He then told me there had been an accident and that my Dad had passed away. 
  You never really know how you will react in these situations, well I don't anyway.  I felt my knees giving way underneath me so I sat down on the step.  It wasn't really sinking in.  They wanted to send one of their counsellors over, which I didn't want.  They wouldn't leave until I called someone to come and be with me.  You see my Mom and sister were 3hrs away.  I had moved in with Dad, it was just me and him.
   I did meet some wonderful people the couple of months before Dad's death.  Josh and his family being some of them.  You might be wondering why I didn't think of calling Josh, I knew he had worked a night shift and would be sleeping.
  I called a girl friend and she came with her Mom and Dad.  Before they arrived the officer and coroner left.  I was alone for a little bit.
  I calapsed on my bed and I felt the world crashing in on me.  I felt the Lord grip me by the shoulders and He whispered "Pray" in my ear.   The only words that I could get out were "Jesus help me".  That was more than enough.  I felt His love rushing in and I cried.  But it wasn't the despairing cry that had threatened to swallow me moments before.  I could cry for my loss and then I was able to get up and do what needed to be done. 
  I called another friend who was able to convince me that I needed to call my Mom.  I was afraid to call her at work.  That was really hard to do.  But thinking back it was probably harder for her knowing I was alone.  But I wasn't really alone Christ was carrying me. 
  My friend and her parents arrived, they prayed with me and for me. They kept me company.  My friend called Josh knowing that it was ok to wake him up. 
  Josh and Sheldon both came and stayed with me until my Mom and sister arrived. 
  The next week is kind of a blur.  I remember moments of it. 

Yesterday looking at Dad's picture I realize how much I still miss him.  I wish I had more pictures of him.  Some with close ups of his hands.  Close ups of his face.  There are details I feel I've forgotten.  He didn't have any tatoos, but he did have scars.  I've forgotten about the scars. 
  His left or right knee clicked everytime he took a step.  There was no way he could sneak up on us we could always hear his knee!  He always had great advice. 
   I miss our long converstations about life, God, people.  I miss his laugh.  
   
  If you've lost someone you'll know that there are people who tell you that they look down on you from Heaven.  I don't believe that, for my Dad that would be Hell.  To have watched us go through the pain of lossing him would have been hell to him.  To not be there for us in our tough times, yep that too.  So I am not comforted by hearing that.  I am more comforted by thinking that I may see him again one day in Heaven.   If you are comforted by thinking your loved ones are looking over you, please disregard my words.  They are for me.  What I have learned is that we all grieve in our own way.  That grief is multi-facited, there are many parts to the process, some of which surface years down the road.
   God has repaired and healed my broken heart.  My heart is full of the beautiful children and wonderful husband that God has given me.   
   I still will think of him, I still will miss him.  I've learned a lot about God through the pain.  I am thankful for that.  I wouldn't be who I am today without it.  I still wish he could have been here.  But I am now content and look forward to a reunion of epic prepotions in Heaven!  With not just my Dad but all my family who's gone on before me. 
  For more about my Dad go here.

I made this one large so you can see it.  My Dad in 1978.  I'm the 2yr old.

My Dad age 2 or 3.

Left my Dad is in the green shirt about age 19. Right my Dad About age 28-30

My Dad and Me 1976

My sister, Dad and Me. '88 or '89

Me and Dad my Grad '94

My Dad age 12.  And His Mom I think in '92?

Ode to my Dad.

  My Dad left us too soon.  It will be 16yrs this November since my Dad passed away.  It doesn't really seem like that many years.  I remember him as clearly as if he were here yesterday. 
    Of course the pain of missing him has subsided somewhat with the distance of time, but missing him never ends.  It is
more then missing him, it's what he is missing that gets me the most. 
   My Father loved children, not just his own, but he had a soft heart for all kids.  I know that he would be reveling in the mountain of grandbabies.   Once he got past his concern that we were married too young, having kids too young and not financially secure in any way.  I know that one look at that little baby boy, almost 14yrs ago, would have melted his heart into a bubbling bowl of mushy baby love.
     My Dad wasn't always the best Dad.  He was an alcoholic who quit drinking when I was 8.  He left my Mom when I was 9.  We saw him once every 2- 3mons.  Maybe it was more then that, I was young and it felt very long between visits. 
   When I was 12 he moved closer to us.  We were able to see him every other weekend.  It was during these years that I believe I got know him, to understand the man my Dad was. 
   He was the first born son after 4 girls.  Number 5 in a family of 10 kids.  Growing up in a Christian home, he was often frustrated with what he felt like was a lack of answers for his questions.  The only answer for sin he was given was hell, and actual life consequences where not discussed.  At 16yrs of age he quit school and left home.  He went clear across the other side of the country.  He broke his mother's heart.  He felt that he was breaking her heart anyway with his life choices, he didn't want to do that any more. 
   He started his new life out west in the big city.  He got a job in forestry and moved north.  Some years later at 28 he got married to my Mom.  He was already the father of 2 children that he didn't know.
   I don't know when his self-hatred began.  Perhaps it started with the belief that he broke his mother's heart.  Or the very strained relationship with his father.  I do know that the woman and son he left behind compounded that condemnation, and the little girl he later found out was his. 
  I was born when he was 32, the first born for him and my Mother.  The first time he stayed to raise his child.  2 years later my little sister was born. 
   His drinking worsened with the years, and life became more and more chaotic. 
   When I was 5yrs old my Mom took my sister and I back east to meet our family there.  My "new" aunties lathered love upon us.  Our Grandparents were so happy to finally see us for the first time, not in pictures.  They were lovely people, and I had lots of questions.  My Grandpa told us about God, I had lots of questions.  My Aunty taught me to pray, and I prayed for my Dad to quit drinking. 
   My prayers were answered, a few years later.  My Dad got sober.  
   I believe he was a tortured soul, I don't think he thought he brought good to anyone.  He needed to go find his happiness, or so he thought, and he moved out. 
   Years later he confessed to me that he was wrong to leave, that there was no happiness out there to find, it was in here all the time. (He was pointing to his chest.)
   My Dad and I would have long talks on the drives to and from his house.  When I became a Christian they started out as fights, he had moved away from all the Christians in his life.  I think God has a sense of humor, don't you?
   Eventually my Dad came around, he said to me, "Well it's been a couple years now, I guess your not just going through a faze."
   He actually became very proud of me, that I had found the Lord.  He even said that, "This proves to me that there is a God, because my daughter has the same faith as my Mother, and they never even knew each other." 
   I had met my Grandmother 2 times in my whole life, I loved her instantly.  She was sweet and kind, and had an everlasting smile. 
  In his last days I lived with him.  Although I had no idea they would be my last days with him.  He told me he was less lonely with me around. 
  He got to met Josh.  We had just started dating.  This is what my Dad said about him.  "He's like you." 
  You see I had brought other guys to meet my Daddy, none of which he thought was like me.  So this to me was his approval.
   I know that he would not want anyone to think badly of him.  And honestly I do feel a little guilty for not making him look like the perfect Dad.  I can tell you he was a great Dad in many ways, and a not so great one in others.  I gained lots of words of wisdom from him. 
   Through all the years that I had my Dad, from as far back as I can remember.  I never, not even once, ever doubted his love for me.  I knew that he loved me no matter what I did, no matter who I would become.  I also knew that if I needed him, he would get there, he would come. 
   So happy father's day Daddy, I know you're not here, and I know you can't read this.  When you were good you were great.  And everything else is forgiven and gone.  I am so thankful that you knew that anyway, and I'm glad I got to tell you, in those days you were here.  I know you would love your son-in-law, and all your Grandbabies too.   I'll just have to love them that much more and pass on the best of you.  I love you.